and all the dreams sing their songs
by Yati
Summary: A collection of Final Fantasy X drabbles/short fics. Mostly response to prompts on LJ.
1. courage to stray

She would always be Braska's little one to Auron: that quiet, serious child watching from the Highbridge as they had departed from Bevelle ten years past. She has grown up into a quiet, serious young summoner on her way to defeat Sin. She's her father's daughter, living her life for the people of Spira.

But she's more than that now. She's facing Yunalesca, defiant, refusing to let destiny run its course.

_The paths we take_, Auron muses, _do we follow them the whole way through? Or do we have the courage to stray?_

Yuna doesn't disappoint him. She _is_ Braska's child, after all.


	2. no such thing as eternity

He had told the boy that he was tired of dreaming.

It was true. One thousand years dreaming the same dream, over and over again, seamlessly overlapping an ending over a beginning over an ending until it was one perfect circle. No one could tell when the previous cycle ended and when the new one begin, and after a while, it didn't matter any more. It was clockwork --- predictable, precise, reliable. Yet this time, he had allowed the breach, permitting this Zanarkand to meld with the other, tearing the fabric between the worlds (which one was real? this one? the other? it made little difference to him) and soon the dream will end.

There were times when he found himself confused. Zanarkand existed because of their dreams. They existed because of Yu Yevon. Yet Yu Yevon was the summoner of Sin, and Sin was the destroyer of Spira. Sin was the reason why the dream continued, and if they wanted the memory of Zanarkand to continue, they had to go on dreaming. After a while he couldn't remember which was the cause and which was the effect, and he couldn't tell whether he was a boy or a dragon or an aeon any more, and he couldn't remember how it was to be really alive. He could never untangle himself from the confusion, from the never-ending spiral of destruction and death.

Perhaps that was why he had allowed the lapse in the cycle. That was why he had allowed a dream to become almost-real, to wander in the land of the living.

One thousand years was a very long time. It felt even longer when nothing changed, nothing evolved, nothing happened. It was an eternity. But then again, there was no such thing as eternity if it ended, was there? He smiled to himself, watching the dream-sea and the dream-sky, and the dream-people going about their dream-lives. Memories preserved for a millennia, yet no one really remembered any of them.

He was tired of dreaming. He was waiting for the final call of his summoner, waiting for the dream to end.


	3. five shades of white

The snow is white as they scale up Mount Gagazet, and he shades his eyes from it. It's too bright, he thinks, too beautiful. The drifting snowflakes settle upon his face, melting before he manages to brush them off.

Too brief.

( _Like the life of pyreflies, or perhaps summoners._ )

He cannot bear to look at Yuna because he thinks that the way the snow reflected by her summoner's garb will blind him: the white draped around her chest ( _too pure_ ); the sleeves trailing behind her like a forgotten comet, the tint of red that follows ( _too gentle, too much death_ ).


	4. homeland

--- and then there is the tugging of the waves of the blue-green sea, and a distant memory of laughter and sorrow and realities beyond reach. New seas, new skies; new dreams for him to swim in. The sea that envelopes him is a warm, safe haven, gentle and constant.

He breaks through the surface and he's almost blinded by the brightness of the sun. The blue sky stretches above him forever, and he knows he can be content here.

_I'm home,_ he thinks. This is where he belongs, and all he needs to make him real now is Yuna.


	5. an ode to your innocence

There was a little girl sitting on the docks, feet skimming just above the water as she swung her legs to and fro. The water barely rippled; all was calm now, after Sin's wake. Tidus recognised her from the day before -- she had been crying while she watched Yuna perform the sending.

"The sea is scary, isn't it?" she asked. Tidus shrugged and sat down beside her, cross-legged. They watched the waves lapping at the pier and he found that he had no comforting words to give. "I miss my daddy," the girl continued. She sounded thoughtful but not really sad. Her eyes were dry, and she was dressed as if she was ready for the day's tasks, not in a mourner's garb. Time was too precious to spend on the dead. "Thanks to Lady Yuna, he's gone peacefully to the Farplane. I'm glad he hasn't become a fiend." She turned to look at him, a winsome smile gracing her lips. "I wouldn't have been able to kill the fiends anymore, if I knew that daddy was one of them."

He stared at her, hoping the horror he felt wasn't reflected in his eyes. No, he decided. He didn't want Yuna to ever have to dance again.


End file.
